At least I didn't do it with a spoon OV
by Jeanne1
Summary: For Alan Rickman fans. COMPLETE. Ever wondered what happened to Maid Marion's serving wench after she was left in the forest?
1. Lethal Locksley

If you like Alan Rickman, you have come to the right place! I know so many people who love this man that I felt inspired to write - erm 'racy' - fiction about his characters. As I am not a Rickman fancier myself, I find it quite easy to write smut about him! I'm afraid this chapter is more of an introduction to the hero and heroine. I promise you it will get steamy in part 3;) Hope you don't mind me mocking Robin a little.  
  
There is also a Harry Potter-ised version in the HP section, with Severus Snape as the Sheriff. I kept the name Severus here, though I use it as sparingly as possible.  
  
IF YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH THE FILM YOU CAN SKIP TO PART 2, this is just plot regurgitation as an introduction.  
  
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Over 800 years ago, King Richard the Lionheart led the 3rd Crusade into the Eastern lands to spread the word of Christianity. However, many of his men did not return.  
  
*  
  
Guy of Gisborn staggered into the Great Hall of Nottingham Castle still panting with exhaustion, and severely shaken by his brush with death. His cousin, the Sheriff of Nottingham, turned to face him.  
  
"What the hell happened to you?" he sneered.  
  
Guy drew in a great shuddering breath and leaned against the wall. He longed to sink into the chair in front of him, but he didn't dare do so without the Sheriff's permission.  
  
"We were set upon," gasped Guy "by a man who warned us against harming his people."  
  
"His people?" the Sheriff inquired.  
  
"He claims to be Robin of Locksley,"  
  
"Aah. The prodigal son returns. and yet you return alone, what of your men?"  
  
Guy felt his knees go weak under his cousin's fierce glare. The Sheriff of Nottingham inspired more fear in him than a hundred Robin of Locksleys.  
  
"They were all slain, cousin, and I barely survived, I -" he trailed off as the Sheriff rose suddenly and strode over to meet him, his face inches from Guy's. Guy could tell that he had aroused that fiery temper of his, and he feared for his life. "He had a companion -" Guy blurted "A painted man."  
  
"An Easterner?" the Sheriff cried in disbelief, stepping back disorientated. He deliberated for a moment, before waving a hand at Guy. "Get out. I wish to be alone."  
  
*  
  
With Guy of Gisborn gone, the Sheriff of Nottingham made his way into the bowels of the castle, below even the deepest dungeons. The stench was awful but he carried on, picking his way through the festering carcasses of dead rodents and the putrid remnants of whatever foul potions the one who dwelt there had been brewing over the years. As he approached the wizened form that hunched over the table at the far end of the room he was greeted by serpents that hissed and writhed at his feet. He longed to kick the foul creatures out of his path, but he was all too aware of what the penalty for that would be.  
  
"Mortiana," he said.  
  
The figure turned its head slowly towards him, and he was faced with the shriveled visage of an old crone. She was over a century old. It was she who had discovered Severus when he was a baby, abandoned at her door by his parents. His family were nobles, but far beneath Mortiana's esteem. However she took on their son and raised him until he was ready to take on the mantle as the Sheriff of Nottingham.  
  
He struggled against the wave of nausea which always swamped him when confronted with the hideous old woman. The witch was then seized by a fit of coughing, so it was a while before she finally spoke. Her breath wheezed and rattled in her throat, and every word she uttered was an effort.  
  
"I knew you'd come."  
  
The Sheriff sat by her side as she removed a snake from her plate and selected an egg from under one of the brooding mothers under the table. Hissing like one of her reptiles she sliced her long gnarled fingernails into the egg. Thick, dark blood dripped onto the gold plate. The Sheriff gritted his teeth, masking his revulsion. Mortiana threw a handful of pre- selected runes into the blood and tilted the plate this way and that to get the best view.  
  
"What do you see?" whispered the Sheriff, careful not to betray his impatience. He shuddered as a snake slithered its way up his calf, but did not dare shake it off.  
  
The witch hissed. "I see the son of a dead man,"  
  
"Locksley!" His hands clenched convulsively on the back of the old woman's chair.  
  
"He dwells in Sherwood Forest, he is gathering companions to him, they are loyal to him, they will fight for him. He must be stopped, he is a threat to you."  
  
Suddenly a terrifying shriek rent the air. The Sheriff stood up in alarm and the plate clattered to the floor. He bit back another violent wave of nausea as the old crone clung to him desperately, babbling incoherently in terror. "I saw the painted man, he haunts my dreams!" she croaked.  
  
"Locksley's companion." The Sheriff mused.  
  
"You must kill him," sobbed the witch "You must kill them all." 


	2. Reeking Robin

I returned from the village with ill news. The Sheriff of Nottingham, curse him, had designs on my Ladyship's land. He is starving his people, they grow poorer by the day. I know my Lady does all that she can, but there is a limit to what she can do. Her position is compromised, for if she pushes the Sheriff too far, he will take action against her. But now I hear that despite the Maid Marion's discretion, his men are already encroaching on her land, and are taking liberties with what they find there. I hastened to my Lady's quarters to deliver the news.  
  
"Idle gossip from the villagers, Sarah," she said, but I could see in her eyes that she was perturbed by what I had to say.  
  
"But I must advise you to be vigilant, my Lady, they say the Sheriff was raised by one of the most powerful dark witches in England!"  
  
"Nonsense Sarah!" but she wrung her hands as she spoke. "I am capable of taking my own counsel and I don't take kindly to -"  
  
We were interrupted by a commotion downstairs. There were three men outside the castle door arguing with the housekeeper. I reached the window first, my Lady peered over my shoulder. She put a hand to her heaving bosom.  
  
"Robin of Locksley!" she gasped.  
  
I turned to face her. "Robin of Locksley? Is that really him? I thought he had been killed in the East!"  
  
We turned back to the window again, but we were too late. Only two men stood outside the door now. The housekeeper had let Robin of Locksley into our home.  
  
"Go in my place Sarah, I beg of you!" she whispered, in considerable distress.  
  
"But surely you wish to meet this man in person this time,"  
  
"We always do it this way!"  
  
"But that was for your own protection my Lady, surely Robin -"  
  
"I can't face him Sarah, not like this."  
  
*  
  
I stepped out into the shadows where I knew he could not see me. He was stood in the middle of the hall with his hands on his hips looking a little foolish.  
  
"What do you want?" I growled.  
  
"I am looking for the Lady of this house, the Maid Marion."  
  
The man looked a prat. I thought I would play with him a little. "Turn around." I said imperiously. He did so. "Do you want me to dance for you also?" he asked sarcastically, obviously irritated. I resisted the temptation to further humiliate him. "Who are you?"  
  
"I am the Maid Marion,"  
  
"Then come out into the light where I can see you,"  
  
I stepped out into the shaft of sunlight and revealed myself before his eyes. His nostrils flared in surprise. I stifled the urge to laugh at his obvious consternation upon seeing this plump wench standing in the place of his childhood sweetheart. I glared down coldly at him.  
  
"The years. have been kind," he stuttered. I had to bite my lip to keep from guffawing out loud.  
  
"Now get out." That would put an end to his amorous quest.  
  
"But the problem is, I have sworn to protect you." Oh Good Lord. Was there no discouraging the man? I saw the glint of a sword tip behind him. Marion! I smirked. Despite her earlier qualms she had resorted to our usual tactic.  
  
"As you can see, we have enough protection."  
  
*  
  
I enjoyed the spectacle of the fight between the arrogant nobleman and the Lady who I served. It was unfortunate that her disguise was discovered by him and our cover blown. I watched from the window as the two talked outside. Robin of Locksley was perched on the castle wall in what could only been seen as a blatant crotch-display. He seemed insistent, and my Lady appeared disturbed greatly by his presence and whatever he was saying to her.  
  
Then what I had feared since my visit to the market happened sooner than I had expected. Guy of Gisborn and a dozen men in armour rode straight through the grounds beyond the outer castle wall. Robin and his companions leapt upon two of our finest horses and clattered off to chase them away. They succeeded, but I fear they will soon return.  
  
The Maid Marion flew into my arms sobbing violently. The days' events had all been too much for her. I helped her into her bedroom and handed her a fresh handkerchief. She seemed more concerned about Locksley than Nottingham's men.  
  
"All I remember of him was a spoilt bully who used to burn my hair as a child!" She sobbed. "He can never replace my brother, no matter how much he brags about 'protecting' me, I will not have it! He will never take my brother's place!"  
  
"What of your brother?" I demanded, a chill settling on my heart.  
  
"He died at the hands of the Turks!"  
  
Alas. It was as I had feared. "My lady, if this man seeks to protect you surely -"  
  
"How do I know he didn't compromise my brother's position out of cowardice?"  
  
"But you must place your trust -"  
  
"His father has been accused of being a Devil Worshiper!"  
  
"But surely -"  
  
Her Ladyship was hysterical. "All the evidence.I just don't know what to believe!"  
  
I let her cry on my shoulder and my mind drifted to more pressing worries. I had served the House of duBois all my life and it was my duty to look out for them. The threat from Nottingham was drawing ever closer."  
  
****  
  
I promise you, the next chapter will have some action in it! Brace yourselves! It will be going onto R-Rated next time, so adjust your settings before checking again. 


	3. My room, 10:30

A/N Please forgive me for indulging in a little more Robin baiting at the beginning!  
  
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I was accompanying her Ladyship on a pleasant ride in Sherwood Forest when we were set upon by brigands. I stuck out a leg and booted my attacker in the face, knocking him to the floor. I allowed myself a split second's glow of satisfaction before hastening to my Lady's aid. Instead of fighting the thief off, she was demanding to see the ringleader! Honestly, that girl is so irresponsible!  
  
Accompanied by several more of their company the two ruffians escorted us through the Forest. I was beginning to wish I served a completely different family. I was trying to look out for the safety of the Maid Marion whilst attempting to keep my own footing as some filthy ragamuffin pushed me down a steep rocky slope by poking me in the back with his stick. I looked up and caught sight of a naked man swimming on the pool beneath the waterfall. Oh damn and blast him - it was that bloody Robin!  
  
"Cover your eyes my Lady!" I called, scuttling down the hill to catch up with her before she clapped eyes on the naked vagrant. "My Lady! My Lady!"  
  
But the Maid Marion had already seen him. She was staring down open mouthed, breathing erratically, her bosom heaving. I really can't tell what she sees in him. He had a tan line so his bum was whiter than the rest of him. I folded my arms. If her Ladyship must insist on getting into trouble.  
  
*  
  
I must say, these outlaws certainly know how to entertain. My Lady had insisted on staying in the Forest, and I relented, even though I knew it was just so she could dally with Robin of Locksley. The people who dwelt here had fashioned a fine home for themselves up in the trees. There were all sorts of tree houses and bridges running between them. It was a proper little community here. Now night had fallen and there were fires lit it was actually very cosy. I was particularly enjoying the company of an overweight monk who had recently joined the band. He explained that the Sheriff's men had ridden into the village and evicted the peasants. Their homes had been burned and their belongings stolen or destroyed. I looked up again at the village in the trees. All that had been done with their own bare hands. It was truly extraordinary. The monk told of how Robin of Locksley had ridden into Sherwood Forest and defeated Little John, the former leader of the outlaws and had taken control of his men and was readying them to take a stand against the Sheriff of Nottingham.  
  
My friend the Friar Tuck was a bit of a drinker. He may no longer be able to serve the Lord Jesus in the sanctuary of the monastery, but he can still worship him through nature in brewing his beer. The ale flowed freely that night. My Lady had disappeared somewhere with Robin, the two of them were probably engaged in a lovers' tryst somewhere. Down here, people had taken up musical instruments and there was dancing, drinking and merriment. There was one awful moment when Fanny, Little John's wife, went into labour and there were complications with the birth. People began to panic, we were lost without medicine. The Easterner stepped in, and a struggle ensued between him and John and the Friar, as no one trusted a non- Christian with the lives of Fanny and the baby. There was animosity between the Friar and the Easterner, as the former deeply mistrusted the strange ways of the East and the latter refused to accept a God other than Allah. But all that was changed when the foreigner emerged triumphantly from Little John's hut holding the newborn baby aloft. It was a truly joyous occasion. Friar Tuck and the Easterner shook hands and put aside their differences. There were tears in my friend's eyes. After the birth and the truce there was an atmosphere of jubilant celebration in the Forest. Even my Lady, who had reappeared with Robin, let her hair down and joined in the merriment. We danced and laughed until we dropped. I had never had so much fun in all my life.  
  
*  
  
The next time I entered Sherwood forest was on an urgent errand for the Maid Marion. The Sheriff of Nottingham had issued his claim on Dubois property, the villagers had been driven into the Forest and there was a price of 1000 gold pieces on Robin of Locksley's head. My Lady had given me a letter to deliver into the hands of Richard the Lion-Heart to beg him to return and liberate his people. I was bending down to investigate an injury to the horse of the priest who was accompanying me when I felt a sudden blow to the head.  
  
When I regained consciousness the shadows were growing longer in the Forest and it was past midday. My horse was gone as was the priest and as was the letter. I had awoken in a different part of the Forest to where I had fallen and I was totally lost. My only hope was to find the camp where the outlaws stayed and to seek their help.  
  
I had been wandering round for over two hours when a voice called "Sarah! Is that you?" There was a rustling in the bushes and out popped the good Friar. I was so glad to see him. I told him what had happened and he said he'd take me to Robin immediately. Robin dispatched one of his men to send the message on to the King. He said someone would accompany me back to Dubois castle in the morning.  
  
An hour later and I was chatting to Friar Tuck about beer when a trumpet sounded in the trees. Little John came rushing from the direction of the sound and gasped that the Sheriff of Nottingham himself was on his way with three score of his men. There was instant commotion. Men were shouting, women screaming and children crying. Robin of Locksley climbed on to a convenient branch and began addressing the men whilst the Easterner peered through that contraption of his and relayed information back to him. Friar Tuck seized my arm. "You've got to run Sarah! Escape whilst you still can! Run!" he pushed me roughly into the undergrowth. I stumbled forward a few paces and looked back. But the good Friar had gone. My heart was pounding and my legs felt as if they would give way in any moment. I stumbled round in confusion as arrows whizzed over my head and the frenzied shouts of the men filled the air. It was then that I caught sight of the most devastatingly gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on. He was dressed all in black, with a luxurious black and gold cloak that draped over his horse's hindquarters. His shirt was half open, revealing a smooth, manly chest, and his muscular thighs strained in tight breeches. He had thick dark curly hair and mysterious dark eyes that were staring right at me. I was rooted to the spot, absolutely mesmerised. The man swung off his horse in one fluid movement and advanced towards me. My heart missed a beat and my breath caught in my throat. Wordlessly he slipped an arm around my waist. His face was inches from my own, and he smirked slowly. He suddenly pushed me roughly up against the nearest oak tree and forced his strong thigh between my legs. He was breathing faster now, running his hands up and down my body, and smirking as I trembled with desire. I reached up slowly, my hand shaking and I let my fingers entwine themselves in his luxuriant dark hair. If it weren't for his thigh between my legs still holding me up I would have sank to the ground as he bent his head towards me and kissed me roughly, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I responded hungrily, reaching with my other hand into his hair.  
  
"COUSIN! Come quickly!" a sinister, gravelly voice shouted suddenly. The devilishly handsome man I was with broke off the kiss with a groan of frustration. "We have John and the boy! Locksley's getting away! Come quickly Cousin!" The man let out a torrent of curses and leapt up onto his horse. He paused and reached down to place his hand round the back of my neck.  
  
"I will deal with you later," he growled. With that, he turned and thundered off into the Forest. I leaned against the tree for support, still breathing heavily, my mind reeling from the erotic encounter I had just experienced. I forced my fuddled mind to make sense of what I had heard. Little John and Will Scarlett captured? I couldn't skulk in the bushes any longer, I had to help in any way I could. I emerged into the clearing in time to see the Easterner swing from a rope and knock Guy of Gisborn off his horse with both feet. Gisborn howled in pain and shouted obscenities at him. I instantly recognised the distinctive voice of Guy of Gisborn. He was the man who had called to his cousin earlier. It was well known that Gisborn was the cousin of the Sheriff of Nottingham. It couldn't be! No - Gisborn must have several cousins, as does Lady Marion. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a flash of gold and black cloak through the trees.  
  
"Capture the wench and bring her to the castle! We will return to look for Locksley tomorrow!" his finger was pointing straight at me. One of the nearby men swooped down from his horse and scooped me up onto his steed, pointing his sword at my throat. In the struggle and confusion both Guy of Gisborn and the man who had ordered for me to be captured had ridden away. I could no longer deny who he was. I was shaking with terror and worry for my friends as the soldier tied me up. However I did not put up as much resistance as I could have done. Maybe I felt I could help John and Will if I was taken to the castle. But the truth could not be completely denied. I longed to feel again the touch of the man I had met in the undergrowth. My head feared for my safety and that of the others, but my body greatly desired the Sheriff of Nottingham. 


	4. Something vexes thee?

A/N: Just looked at my exam timetable, one of the venues is listed as 'Loxley's'... Turns out it's the University cafeteria.  
  
By the way, I had to make a phonecall to Nottingham yesterday. ooh. LOL  
  
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The journey to Nottingham castle was long and arduous. Gisborn and the men in front made straight for the castle dragging Will Scarlett and Little John along with them. Myself and my captors were waylaid by more outlaws, lead by Friar Tuck, who attempted to free me and search for Will and Little John. Even with half the army on their way to Nottingham castle, my captors greatly outnumbered the Merrie Men. Friar Tuck had to admit defeat. Though it makes me feel thoroughly ashamed to admit it, a deep and secret part of me was glad the outlaws had to retreat. For of course the Sheriff, who had so captured my desire only moments before, had gone on ahead with his cousin.  
  
Much to my chagrin, the men decided to make a huge detour to throw off any potential rescuers, and the journey that in theory should have only taken a few hours took two days. This left me being uncomfortably bumped around on the back of a knobbly old horse, at the mercy of an uncouth Norman with foul breath. When we bedded down for the night I was unable to sleep, tortured by erotic images thrown up by my own fevered imagination.  
  
*  
  
The Sheriff of Nottingham was feeling thoroughly vexed. Servants and wenches alike cowered into the corners as he swept from room to room cursing things at random and bawling in rage at anyone who got in his way. Currently the scribe was the focus of the Sheriff's indomitable wrath, after having informed him that Robin of Locksley's popularity was rising.  
  
"Cancel the kitchen scraps for the poor, and call off Christmas!" he roared, slamming the door behind him. He caught sight of two terrified girls huddled by a flaming torch in the corridor, obviously brought for him by one of his men, hoping to curry favour. He was frustrated and tense, and needed to find release in the arms of a good woman. These skinny wenches would have to do.  
  
"You-" he growled, indicating the one with a nod of his head "my room, ten thirty. You, ten forty-five-" he smirked lavisciously, "and bring a friend." The Sheriff was interrupted in his amorous pursuits by a clatter of chain mail in the corridor. He whipped round and caught sight of several of his men dragging a familiar woman round the corner and out of sight. He felt a stirring in his loins at the memory of the stolen moment in Sherwood Forest. He waved his hand at the girls before him.  
  
"I've changed my mind."  
  
Quick as a flash he rounded the corner where the soldiers had gone. "YOU!" he roared suddenly at the nearest soldier. The Norman paled visibly and sidled towards the Sheriff like a dog about to be whipped.  
  
"Yes, my Lord," he whispered, through lips that had turned blue with fear.  
  
"The girl. Did you touch her?"  
  
"N-no, my Lord, we understood -"  
  
The Sheriff's hand reached up and closed around the man's neck. "Good. For if I find that any of you have laid a finger upon her you will die. Slowly."  
  
* My knees nearly gave way upon hearing that voice. It is so distinctive, low and seductive. It sent a shiver down my spine that pooled somewhere between my legs, where I throbbed with desire. By the time I dared to turn round, he had gone.  
  
I was thrown into a cell where I stayed for several hours during which I was given a stale piece of bread and cheese, until there was a loud bang on my door. Just as suddenly, it was wrenched open.  
  
"The Sheriff demands to see you," the soldier grunted. He virtually had to carry me to the Sheriff's quarters I was shaking so badly. We arrived and he left me outside the door after knocking on it.  
  
"Enter."  
  
Timidly I pushed open the ornate wooden door, and hung onto the handle for dear life. The Sheriff of Nottingham stood before me, still fully clothed and wearing his thick black and gold cloak around him. I was transfixed with a heady mixture of desire and terror. I did not dare look downwards to see the welcome he had waiting for me. We stood staring at each other for a moment, I was sure I would burst with the suspense. Like a beast he crossed the distance between us in a single bound and lifting me easily, he threw me backwards on top of the table, sending the remnants of his dinner crashing to the floor. He leapt up on to it and stood above me, the bottom of his cloak swirling about my body. I caught sight of the lustful excitement in his eyes, and the long, lean hardness of his body. He sank to his knees and inched closer to me. I whimpered in terrified anticipation and closed my eyes.  
  
There was a creak as the door opened and a face peered round. Enraged, the Sheriff grabbed the nearest goblet left on the table and threw it at the door.  
  
"I TOLD YOU I'D CHANGED MY MIND!!!!" he roared.  
  
He turned back to me and suddenly ripped the front of my bodice apart. At that moment his eyes softened. He touched my cheek gently. "You are so beautiful," he whispered. Then with a roar, he hiked my dress up round my waist. His fingers found their way into my flesh. "By Christ you are wet," he murmured. I could only mew in reply, gasping in pleasure as his fingers probed further.  
  
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A/N: Sorry! I'm going to have to leave you here! Please don't kill me;) Basically, I've gone back to Uni, and well, you try writing erotic fiction about Alan Rickman in a crowded computer room! Even opening my reviews for this is bad enough - *Katie* - I couldn't keep a straight face when I opened yours! This was as far as I got before my parents came to bring me back. Anyway, I'll go back home soon and finish this off. So, as the Sheriff was going to say before I was rudely interrupted - Keep yourself on ice... 


	5. And bring a friend

A/N: Well, finally got back home to finish this off - sorry about the wait! I thought I'd lost this as my disk got wet on the way home, but, luckily, it's OK. Writing this give you a certain sense of power - poor Mr Rickman has to do *everything* I say!  
  
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His finger stroked relentlessly, the waves of ecstasy increasing until I came, screaming loudly. When I had finally stopped shuddering and my eyes re-focused, I saw the Sheriff laughing down at me. He gathered me up and threw me down on the bed. He began ripping off his clothes, growling and shouting in aggravation as he got tangled up in his impatience. Giggling, I had to help him extricate himself.  
  
I gave a moan as I gazed upon his body. He was tanned and muscular, with wide shoulders and powerful thighs. Unthinkingly, I wrapped my legs around his waist, rubbing myself against his smooth torso, and begged him to come inside me.  
  
"Not yet." he snarled, and suddenly flipped me over. I felt him straddle me and his rough hands began working their way over my back. It felt heavenly. I buried my face in the pillow, which carried the strong musky scent of him. I moaned in pleasure as his hands dug deeper into my flesh, creeping round to caress my breasts.  
  
He leaned down to whisper in my ear as he tweaked a nipple.  
  
"Just you wait. you're going to love it, Sarah. oh yes, I am going to make you scream."  
  
I screamed then in frustration, I wanted him so badly. "Oh please, now."  
  
He slowly rolled me on to my back again, and leaned back, a smile of satisfaction inching over his face. My heart crashing in my chest I waited. He took me completely by surprise, impaling me upon him as I gave a shriek. He was wild, like an animal, I feared the bed would break. Tears of agonised ecstasy rolled down my cheeks as I called his name over and over again. He was wonderful, he made me feel like a Goddess as he drove on and on, taking me to places I have never known before.  
  
"OH MY GOODNESS!" I yelled, my cry mingling with his own roar of pleasure as we climaxed together.  
  
We lay panting on the bed with him on top of me. My hands roved over his taut muscled back in wonderment. He climbed off me and wrapped his cloak about him. He opened the door then gave a snarl of irritation as he realised he'd forgotten to put his clothes on underneath. He tugged them on then his hand burrowed under the bed clothes to come to rest between my legs.  
  
"Keep yourself on ice." And he was gone.  
  
*  
  
I had lain there in his bed writhing in desire and longing, reliving the glorious moment we had shared, and willing him to return as soon as possible. It seemed like an eternity before he entered the room again, and he was so impatient to get started on me straight away. We made love until we were too physically drained to carry on.  
  
The Sheriff of Nottingham and I made love all over the castle, often with the risk of several Norman soldiers bursting in on us. He would tie me to the bed and explore my body all over with his tongue, playing with me for hours. He would take me from behind as I kneeled on all fours before him, making me feel deliciously dirty. He would chase me round and round Nottingham castle, then spank my bottom mercilessly when he caught me. At the end of the night he would fall asleep on top of me, and I would remain awake for several moments longer, stroking his hair tenderly as he lay upon my bosom.  
  
*  
  
Lost in my own world of bliss, I had forgotten Little John and the others. But the day of their execution eventually came round, and I discovered that the Maid Marion was in situ, and even worse, that she was betrothed to my Sheriff. She was to sit at his side for the hanging, forced to watch our friends die a slow and agonizing death. The Sheriff of Nottingham was exceptionally cruel, that was part of what made him such an amazing lover.  
  
Ensconced in one of Nottingham castle's towers, peeping through the tiny slit of a window, I silently cheered on Robin, the Easterner and my own great friend Friar Tuck as they heroically freed the captives. The brave outlaws caused so much disturbance that the Sheriff was able to whisk my Lady back into the castle unnoticed. That is, except by me.  
  
I crept down the stairs and followed the Sheriff and the maiden. To my horror, he took her into the chapel, where the priest - the same priest who had provided my treacherous riding companion, I noticed - was already waiting. I slipped into an alcove where I could remain undetected. My Lady Marion was whimpering in terror as the Sheriff, his face twisted with cruelty, forced her to the ground. Clasping my hands together I prayed for Robin and the others to come quickly and save my mistress.  
  
I jumped as a thundering Boom shook the castle. Robin and the Easterner were using a statue of the Sheriff to break the door down. Inside, the hurried ceremony was drawing to a close, and the Maid Marion's hideous fate was almost sealed. Wringing my hands I silently willed the door to break. Seconds later the heavy oak door crashed down, and Robin of Locksley, hastily followed by the outlaws, burst in on the scene. I barely restrained my glee as the good Friar pushed the terrified priest out of the window - I was reduced to stuffing my fist in my mouth to stifle the laughter. But the laughter turned to fear as I watched both men draw their swords. I was terrified for my friends and my Lady, and I also feared for my lover. The swords clashed in fury and the Sheriff was getting more and more enraged. His rage cost him. I sank to my knees in silent horror as Locksley plunged his blade into my Sheriff's chest.  
  
I then noticed a huddled figure out in the corridor. It was the crone, Mortiana. Reverting to my practical senses I rummaged in my robe for the potion that I bought off the local medicine woman. I always carry it with me. It's powers of heeling are incredibly potent, so there was still a chance of healing him, if I got it to him in time. Trembling, I revealed myself before the witch. She revolted me, but I had no time to quibble on that. Fighting down the rising waves of panic, I grabbed her arm, and thrust the potion into her hands.  
  
Her eyes were rolling madly "The painted man, the painted man..." she was whispering over and over again, demented by awe and terror.  
  
I shook her roughly, my panic mounting. "Control yourself witch! Give this to the Sheriff, it will restore him - hurry!"  
  
She wriggled and tried to break free from my grip. "No, the painted man, the painted man! My dreams -"  
  
"I don't give a bugger about your dreams old crone!" I hissed, dragging her savagely to her feet. "You've got to save him, please." I collapsed to the floor, unable to hold back my sobbing any longer. Mortiana's eyes fell on the small dagger I kept by my side, and her bloodshot eyes lit up with a sudden evil passion. I threw it at her and she snatched it, and still holding my potion in her other hand she flew into the chapel hissing and spitting in fury. The Easterner seized his chance. Withdrawing a bizarre and vicious-looking blade, he drew back his arm and the weapon whizzed through the air, and landed deep in the old woman's heart. With a last strangled choke, the hag dropped to the floor in a pool of her own black blood. The vial containing the potion that would save the life of my beloved smashed on the floor, the precious liquid draining uselessly onto the stone.  
  
*  
  
I was not given the chance to grieve, unable even to lay my hand upon the brow of my dead lover. As soon as the old crone fell Robin of Locksley grabbed the Maid Marion and the two rushed joyfully out of the chapel picking up me along the way. Flushed and giddy after their brush with death and subsequent victory, they were in exceedingly high spirits. I was swept along with them, chattering and laughing, and I pushed my sorrow to one side and allowed myself to share the relief that we were all safe.  
  
We emerged into the daylight to ringing cheers. I couldn't help but feel joy on such an occasion. The tyranny of Nottingham was over, Little John and the rest of the outlaws were free, and I was back amongst friends. I joined in the festivities, dancing and singing with all my heart. The love and pure happiness of my young mistress and her sweetheart was infectious. I breathed in the scents of Sherwood forest, savouring the sweet smell of freedom.  
  
*  
  
The owl had reached King Richard the Lion-Heart, and he returned to restore order to the province of Nottingham, and appointing a new Sheriff. He attended the wedding of my Lady and Robin of Locksley to see the Houses of DuBois and Locksley renew their ties. The ceremony was performed by my friend, Friar Tuck. Afterwards during the merriment, he offered me a jug of ale, putting his arm around my waist and giving me a squeeze. I accepted the drink, but withdrew from him. I am not ready yet.  
  
****  
  
Well, what did you think? My first draft of the ending was so upsetting that I was depressed for ages afterwards. So I changed it to give a more positive angle. Sarah is still grieving over the Sheriff of Nottingham, but she values the safety of her friends and the freedom of the people more. Ultimately she knows it was best for him to die, and she is for the most part happy. However, she will never forget him. 


End file.
